


Baby, I'm Yours

by DandelionBurdockGirl



Category: Alex Turner - Fandom, Arctic Monkeys, British musician RPF, Indie Music RPF
Genre: AU, Angst, Author Tries Not To Ruin Everything In The Tags, Daddy Turner, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, General headfuck, Past Relationship(s), cuteness, just trust me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 05:50:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3966769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DandelionBurdockGirl/pseuds/DandelionBurdockGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One year. One phone call. One hell of a lifestyle change.<br/>But at least it meant Alex got to wake up with the most beautiful person he'd ever known. </p><p>[Alternatively: 'Nearly Naked Mornings with Alex Turner'.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, I'm Yours

**Author's Note:**

> So this was basically just a 'brief oneshot' I wrote for my own amusement that quickly spiralled into something I spent far too much time on, born from revision procrastination, exam stress and the worst possible General Election outcome.  
> But I like it.  
> ... And I may or may not have started mentally continuing this...

Nothing could compare to waking up like this.  
Alex revelled in the presence beside him. She looked so small slumbering next to him. So dainty, so delicate (although every so often she would let out a very ungraceful heavy breath – a snore, if he was being honest with himself). _So perfect_. And all his.

Head flat against the mattress (since a pillow was bad for her neck and back), her fluffy brown hair was in a slightly more manic state than he was used to seeing it in. She'd been rolling in her sleep again, hadn't she? At least she'd hadn't gotten too far from him this time, managing to end up on her back instead of her stomach, which she was never too fond of.

Careful as he possibly could, he propped himself onto his side so he had a better vantage point, shifting the covers as best he could without disturbing her. He had to stifle a giggle when he noticed that she was sprawled across the sheets not like the stereotypical starfish, but more like a cactus – legs firmly together but her arms out to her side, bent and reaching towards the headboard, shaped like a circus strongman. _Bless_.  
It was a word he often thought when he saw her like this. Not unconscious – not necessarily anyway. Just when she did things without realising, daft things that only he'd notice. Daft things that only _he'd_ care enough about to commit to memory.

The soft curve of her belly rose and fell slowly but surely and he found himself fascinated by its rhythm. Her chest was bare, something he'd insisted upon if she was to sleep under his thousand-tog winter duvet that he still hadn't changed despite the early spring weather. She hated being too hot; he hated seeing her struggle to sleep. Almost all of her was bare now he thought about it – fretted, in fact - but a gentle back of the hand against her forehead proved that she was neither too hot or too cold. _Just right_.

Much as he wanted to spent as much of the day as possible up and about with such a sweetheart, he knew that she had had a pretty late night. With a soft smile he returned her share of the blanket. _Best to let her sleep_.

Of course, he hadn't factored in exactly how she was lying, no pillow to elevate her. Time seemed to go in slow motion as the heavy cloth hit her smack dab in her beautiful little face. _Oh, fu- Well done, Al._

He watched as her delicate features contorted into a grimace. _Great, yeah. Yeah, she was definitely-_ A few heavy blinks later, those round dark eyes were staring at him like they couldn't _believe_ he'd just done that.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmured, moving the chequered covers away from her. “It was an accident, I swear. Didn't mean to wake you, angel.” Though she didn't exactly look impressed with him, he didn't receive any angry muttering like he'd expected.

Instead the girl jerked her head, looking away from him, and offered a quick kick that landed against his hip.

Alex gasped in mock outrage. “Did you just _kick_ me? Oh, that's _very_ mature.” When she booted him again, he caught hold of her ridiculous tiny feet which stopped them in their tracks. “Alright, Beckham, that's enough, eh?”

Since he'd stopped her game, she was less than impressed when he lightly tapped her nose. A small pink pout met his efforts to cheer her up. “You not talking to me now, eh? Hm?” he asked. His only answer was a whine as she stretched out.

“Oh, you're always grumpy in the mornings, love.” One arm either side of her, he loomed over her for a few seconds until she stopped wriggling enough to look up at him. “I like you better when you're asleep.” Before she had time to process it, Alex dove down to plant a long kiss against her forehead.

Face all scrunched up, she groaned. Loudly. Possibly due to the wetness of the kiss. Probably due to the stench of his morning breath. A quick check into his own hand confirmed his suspicions. “Hey, I've had to deal with worse from you,” he reminded her. Not that she was listening, still trying to twist away from him as she was, even after he'd freed her.

Rolled back onto his back, he looked at his glaring girl as she let out a further whine at the morning. Paused for a few seconds. Another glance. Another whine.  
Before he leapt up from the bed, ripping the covers from her with a sadistic grin.

Upon hearing her sharp shuddering gasp at the sudden cold, he felt a twist in his gut. That 'I'm-About-To-Cry-And-It's-All-Your-Fault' expression on her face – complete with lip tremble - was one he knew all too well, as he began to feel horribly guilty about his actions. For about two seconds.

That was when he hoisted her up, half tossing her over his shoulder with his arms firmly against her waist and back. (He'd never forgive himself if he dropped her.)

“Gah!” The girl squeaked at his rude disruption. Those fists of hers may have been fairly little and she had none of the upper body strength whatsoever that was required to do any actual damage, but he could still feel the thumps she gave the top of his back. … No, he _definitely_ wasn't stifling a giggle at her efforts.

“It's okay. I've got you, love.” Somehow, frustrated as she was, his words soothed her at least a little. He picked up... _something_ for her to wear, to save any complains later and strode through to the kitchen without a second thought. “Let's get some breakfast in you then, princess.”

Although she was a tad heavier than she looked (just the tiniest fraction, mind), carrying her seemed like a breeze compared to the guitars and amps he was used to lugging around in his younger days. … Not that his girl bore _any_ resemblance to heavy technical equipment. Quiet muttering against his bare skin occasionally grew loud enough for him to catch the odd snippet here and there – not that it made any sense to him, but he nodded all the same.

The kitchen was part of the open plan living room. Modern with pine wood cupboards, it wasn't very spacious but it did the job. After all, cooking facilities hadn't been very high on the agenda when it came to selecting his bachelor pad. But, well... circumstances changed, didn't they?  
Still with her slung against his chest, the familiar squeak of the wide top cupboard caught her attention, her head turning to look at him then at the door once more. It reminded him of the way a dog came running when it heard the kibble box rattle. He chose not to point this out since it seemed like his cruelty was being forgiven.

“So...” Alex shifted her to his side so she could see better. “You can have milk...” He could almost feel her breathing get heavier. “Or milk... or _milk_.”  
With only some slight difficulty, he clutched the tin of formula and managed to put it on the counter without dropping it. “I'm thinking milk, yeah?” Excited kicks softly battered into his side. “Yeah.”

Reaching for the steriliser, he frowned. “Oh, what time did we do these last night, hm? D'you remember? Because I can't.” Her beautifully blank expression indicated she had just as much idea as him. Instead she chewed on her stubby fingers.

“Oh, you're hungry, I know,” he said, giving her curling hair a rub. “But I've got to make sure everything's clean so you don't get sick, yeah? 'Cause we don't want that, do we?” He shook his head, which meant he had to push the hair from his eyes as it escaped from where he tucked it behind his ears. “No, we don't.” Not after January's great ear infection. Good lord, that had been a hellish four days.

“Breakfast's coming soon, I promise. Five minutes. But...” Flicking on the steriliser and the fully filled kettle, Alex gave the girl a big smile. “That's enough time to get _someone_ changed.”

Last night – this morning, technically – had been rather hectic, especially since he was already half asleep, so he'd already left both the changing mat and the baby box of necessities out. Past Alex had his uses sometimes. Laying the youngster against the duck patterned waterproof mat, he undid her nappy but did not remove it (a rookie mistake) as he inspected the contents with a weary eye. A sigh of relief. “Ah, you just wet? Just a bit wet. That's good.”  
The naked girl kicked her feet out in response to his cooing. With experienced hands, he worked like a production line: a quick wipe before removing the soiled nappy and instantly replacing it with a clean one, placing the old nappy and used wipe in a diaper bag then fastening the new straps to keep it in place. And she didn't pee all over the mat. Or him. … Again. Success.

“There, that's all better, in't it?”

Soon as he had her wearing _something_ , it felt time to actually put her in _clothes_. What he'd grabbed from the bedroom was a baby bodysuit covered in pastel polka dots that had poppers at the crotch and shoulders. Sounded simple enough to get her in (then again, so did socks). But she'd already decided she was having none of that as she squirmed away from the patterned fabric to roll onto her tummy. “Bah!”

“C'mon, love...”

“Bah!”

He sighed. “Right, fine. Fine. I'll just have a naked baby this morning then. But...” Lifting under her arms, he raised her so those wide eyes were level with his. “Only until your feed is done.” Skin to skin contact was supposed to be good for bonding anyway. Besides... “It's not fair if _I'm_ only in my pants, is it?”

Alex Turner was no hypocrite. Nothing but black boxer shorts was basically the same as one of her white disposable Pampers, wasn't it? Before he could question either of their fashion choices, a beeping alerted him to the news the bottles were sterilised.  
He glanced from the child taking up both his hands to the kitchen. The very underdressed child that he really didn't want to have around boiling water.

“Oh... I'm gonna have to put you in Baby Jail, love.” With apologetic eyes, he lowered the girl into her affectionately nicknamed play pen. Seriously, the thing even had a little door of plastic bars amid its soft mesh walls. (And she looked adorable inside wearing her little striped outfit which declared she'd 'Been Inside For 9 Months' – a gift from Miles, which Alex still found funny.)  
Baby Jail had recently been filled with a mountain of cushions in one corner and it was this he used to help prop her up in a sitting position. … For about five seconds, where she promptly fell backwards against them, kicking like an upturned turtle. “Oh!” she squeaked from her cell, then babbled to Alex as he made up her bottle (he liked to think she was 'talking' to him at least).

Making up formula was second nature to him now. Scoop, flatten, tip. Scoop, flatten, tip. Scoop, flatten, tip. Repeat for five/six/eight. If he could do at 4AM when he was barely awake with a shrieking newborn at his hips, he could do it with eyes closed. (He basically did at first during 4AM feeds.)  
Lid on; shake, shake, shake. (He never did want to say what it reminded him of, but let's just say, he was well-versed in the movement.)

The sloshing sound of the milk was well-received in Baby Jail. “Bah-aaah.”

“Yeah,” he said, imitating her high-pitch as he cooled the bottle beneath the tap. “You know what that sound is, don't you? Eh?”

Her still teensy looking fingers reached out for him as he looked into the pen. Or rather, they reached for the bottle. Cap off, he gave it a quick splash on his inner wrist. Warm, not scalding. Good. He put it on the couch then pulled out a bib and a fresh pink muslin square from the baby box.

Alex rescued the girl from her prison, much to her delight. “Oh, _now_ I get a smile, eh?” Settled against the crook of his arm on the couch, bib on and muslin tied around her neck like a backwards cape, her mouth already eagerly awaited the teat of her bottle. The moment it touched her lips, she wasted no time in guzzling down the contents.

“Mmm, is that good?” Her soft brown eyes watched him coo at her as she suckled on her breakfast, one of those seriously tiny hands resting against the warm plastic. Fuck, she was adorable. And so beautiful. And-

And pretty damn hungry. Less than five minutes and she'd chugged nearly half the bottle. The only time she stopped was when he had to prise the teat from her after it inverted because she sucked too hard.

“You know, we need to have a chat about you sleeping in my bed,” he remembered as she drank. “Last night was a one-off, okay? No more.” God, he already being given the Bambi eyes. “I _mean_ it. It's not that I don't love having you next to me, I do. But it's not good for you.” All he could recall was a dozen different warnings from people about SIDS – something which freaked him out to even think about it for a second. “Plus, it's too warm and I worry about you rolling. You're safe in your cot when you do it but not in _my_ bed. I don't want you to get stuck in the gap between the mattress and the wall. … Again.”

A few minutes more and she eventually spat the bottle out. Only a small amount was left in it. He inspected the marking along the side. Almost 200ml gone. “Wow. You _were_ hungry, huh?” After he offered her the bottle again (to which she shook her fluffy head), he sat her up facing him to wind her.

“You gonna burp for me? Yeah? Are you gonna burp?” Light pressure against her tummy, he gently thumped her back. “A nice little burp...” She just stared at him. “For me? Just a nice, little...”

“UHUUURP!”

The little girl's eruption even startled herself, judging by the bulging brown eyes aimed his way. Alex could only blink, mouth agape. The room was utterly silent for a brief moment that followed.  
Before Alex burst out laughing.

“Was- Was that _you_? Was that _you_?” he asked, his voice creeping up in pitch. She gave him a gummy grin which spurred him on. “That was a nice _big_ burp. How-?” Chuckling, he shook his head in disbelief. _Wow_. “How did something _so big_ come out of something as small as _you_ , eh?”

Wasn't the first time he'd said that.

The memory made him freeze, until he felt her stomach shake beneath his hands and out poured a delighted little laugh. His favourite sound. With a swallow and a plastered smile, he needed to hear it again. “That were _huge_!” He pulled a wildly overacted shocked face – complete with the open mouth and widened eyes – which did the trick. Another stuttering giggle spilled from her like a burst gas pipe (which he supposed she was after that).

After a minute of exaggerated face pulling, the girl's bout of hysterical laughter calmed down. Still smiling, she watched him remove her layers of cloth in amusement.

She really was the most precious thing he'd ever seen. He couldn't bare thinking about his life a year ago. Before that phone call. Before he knew. It seemed like ancient history now. Almost _exactly_ a year ago, now he thought about it. Alex didn't want to even dare imagine life without her.

_Considering how close it came to actually happening._

Just the briefest reflection made his throat tighten. Alex pulled the six month-old closer to him on his lap so her legs dangled over his hips and leant closer to her.

“You know, Daddy is so glad you're here, angel,” he told her, in a voice barely louder than a whisper. Alex wrapped her into a cuddle, feeling her super-soft skin against his.  
In response, two small hands reached out and grabbed hold of the chain around his neck. Pulling it taut between them, her forehead bumped against his neck as she shoved it in her mouth (or rather, shoved her mouth around it) to rub the cool metal against her gums. He ignored the slavers she produced and instead rested his nose against her hair, savouring that baby smell that reminded him of a perfumed bowl of Weetabix.

“You know, your granda- No.” He frowned. “Your _great_ -grandad gave me that chain when I turned eighteen. He has one just like it. We'll need to get you one when you turn eighteen, eh?” Gently he leant back to look at her darling face, careful not to disturb her or yank the necklace from her. She still held it between her chubby fists as it moved back from her with a string of saliva attached, her tongue still hanging out.

“Look at that. Barely even six months old and we're already planning your eighteenth.” He gave her hair a rub as she rattled the metal in one hand. “Should probably focus on your first birthday first, eh? A nice party. Anything you want?” She replied with a high-pitched stream of nonsense. “Really?” He nodded then dropped his voice to a whisper. “I'm thinking 'pony'.” Faking a gasp, he raised a shushing finger to his mouth. Letting go of the chain, she pressed a palm against his hand.

The returning metal made him grimace. “Mm, that's _very_ wet. Still...” Large hands holding her smooth back, he held her against him again so he could bring his knees up to rest her against them. Taking one hand of hers each in his, she wrapped her fingers around his thumbs and he held them in return. Occasionally moving them as he made his list. “We could invite some of your friends from baby group...” Basically the kids who weren't little shits and whose mothers didn't sneer at him or his gorgeous girl when they thought he wasn't looking (that's right, Ruby's mum, no invite for _you_ ). “And we can invite Daddy's friends too. Like Uncle Matt, Uncle Miles and- Oh, and little Hearst. You _like_ Hearst.” Correction: she liked the toys Hearst often had with him. Swings and roundabouts, really. “Who else, hm?”

“Mah-hhhhhhhimmmmm-bah,” she chimed in.

“Maybe, yeah. Let's see...” While thinking he kept moving her arms in a circular motion. “So we can invite the Monkeys, and Steve. Maybe Richard, you liked him. Um... Oh! Nana and Granddad will be there, of _course_. Maybe your mu-”

The unfinished word hung in the air. It made him wince, even though he'd caught himself. Not that she minded – focused more on trying to free her hands from his puppetry - or that she'd even really understood, at the end of the day. But he felt his stomach do that somersault of guilt for what felt like teasing the girl.

Alex felt his lips wobble as he spoke, his voice soon followed suit. “Hey, you know Daddy loves you so, _so_ much, don't you?” Fuck, it was hard to swallow. “Well... So does your mummy.”

Why he was doing this now, he didn't know. It was probably more for him than it was for her, the girl who hadn't even discovered her _toes_ yet. Yet he just couldn't help himself. The trip down memory lane was a dangerous one, but it was too late to stop now.

“She does. It's just... your mummy was just kind of... _scared_ to be a mummy when she found out we were 'aving you.”

 _'I'm not keeping it.'_  
_'…What?'_  
_'It- It's too late to get rid of it, but I'm not keeping it. I just thought you should know. You had a right to know.'_  
_'But… why-?'_  
_'I can't have a_ kid, _Al! Fuck, I just- I_ can't, _okay?'_

“She didn't think she could look after you. Not like you needed anyway. She just didn't love you like a mum.” Another wince. “That came out really wrong. She- she just didn't _feel_ like your mum. Christ, I-I am really _not_ doing myself any favours, am I? Argh, I meant that... She- She just wasn't _ready_ to be a mum, that's all. To anyone.”

 _'Look at her. She's so tiny.'_  
_'She didn't_ feel _it.'_  
' _Well, you_ are _. Yes, you're teeny-tiny! … I still can't believe it. How did something so_ big _come out of someone as small as you then?'_  
_'With_ extreme _difficulty.'_  
_'… D'you want to hold her?'_  
_'No! No, I mean... There's no point, is there? We don't want to get attached.'_  
_'… You mean you're not already?'_

“It wasn't her fault. Or yours. It's scary, being a parent. Just like it is to be a baby, I guess. Everything's different, and you're expected to just... _know_ things. … I suppose I weren't that ready either.” But he gave the child a wavering smile. “But I didn't want _anybody_ else to be your daddy.”

' _I-I can't do it. I can't give her up.'_  
_'You're kidding, right? … For fuck's sake, Al! We_ agreed _! We agreed this was better for all of us.'_  
_'No, you_ decided _it was! … You can't expect me to just give her away to someone else then pretend like she never existed!'_  
_'And you can't expect_ me _to raise a child that I_ don't _want!'_  
'… … … I'll _do it.”_  
_'What?'_  
_'You heard me._ I'll _raise her.'_

He stroked his daughter's cheek. “And we've done okay, haven't we? Me and you? You've still got ten fingers.” Letting go of her hands, he took hold of her feet instead, raising them to rest on his chest. “And ten toes. Yeah?”  
“Ahhhh-hahhh.”  
Tapping her toes, he continued. “Yeah. We did good.”

“I know you haven't really seen her much, but she does care about you.” Alex stared into her cat-like brown eyes. “You look like her, you know. You do.” It was true. To him there was no denying her parentage (though no-one had called him out when they did). “Everyone says you look like me - an' you do. Kinda. You look like both of us. But I really see your mother in you.” Thick fingers tickled beneath her heart-shaped chin.  
“Same shaped face. Same pout. Same smile too. You've even got the same eyes.” _Well_... “Everyone says they're mine, but that's just 'cause they're brown. If they were blue, they'd know exactly where you got them from.” One finger tapped her nose. “Got my beak though. Sorry 'bout that. And- well, the two of us had quite sticky out ears actually.” He stroked the curve of hers gently. “But you pull them off beautifully, you do. … Anyway, you'll grow into them.”  
It made him chuckle as she furrowed her brow at his words, like she had any idea what he was talking about.

“You're named after her, tha knows. Did I tell you that?” If he had, she didn't seem to mind being told again. “Well, technically after both of us. But it's mostly her name. Since you looked so much like her, it just felt right. She kept you safe all that time too, even though she was scared. If you were going to be a 'Turner', it felt like she should be honoured as well.” It probably hadn't helped heal things between them though, mind you. Still, she'd been the one to tell him that, as great as it was, he could _not_ name their daughter with his original suggestion (so he'd used it as her middle name instead). “Not that she was exactly impressed when she saw what I'd registered you as at first. But don't think she wasn't secretly pleased about it. Besides, it just suited you, di'n't it?”

Gazing up at her father, the little girl grinned at his admiration of her. It warmed his heart. God, he'd needed that.

“She's pretty too. Your mum. Pretty, just like you are. Yes. Better than looking like this, eh?” He gestured towards his own face. Despite the silly expression he pulled, her small hands made a grasp for him all the same. “Oh, you're too cute, love.”

All this storytelling was making him nostalgic – he could already feel that knot in his chest. “I asked her to marry me, y'know. Your mum. When we were a _lot_ younger, mind. She said no though. Wasn't ready for _that_ either.” Still stung though, at the time. Enough to make him sigh in the present. “I used to think she was the most beautiful girl in the world, I did. Probably still would.”  
Until he looked at that little perfect face. “Except _you_ came along, didn't you?”

There was no need to force a smile now. “Yes. Yes, you _did_.” His fingers tickled at her belly, filling the room with her giggles. “ _Yes_. And _you_ , love, are without a doubt the most _beautiful_ girl in the whole wide world. Yeah.”  
With that, he kissed her right on that matching nose of hers, tucking her hair behind those little monkey ears. It made her bounce her feet against his chest.

“Must be an Alexa thing, eh?”

Alex leant in to hug her once more, longer this time. “Tell you what, baby, Daddy might dress you up in your tiger suit today. That always cheers us up, eh?” She did make a cute tiger. When he pulled away he was surprised by what he saw.

A tiny foot being held to the little girl's mouth. “Ahhhh-hmmm.”

The sight of her with her toes in her mouth made him laugh with sheer joy. “Yes! That's your foot, Lexi! That's your _foot_. Yeah. That taste good, mm?” He glanced at the other other end of the sofa. “Oh, where's Daddy's phone?”

Oh, this was a Kodak moment if he ever saw one. (Everything usually was with Lexi.) Definitely his new background (although he would miss seeing Monkey Lexi in the mornings). He found his phone down the side of the couch, where Lexi had decided it lived nowadays – when it wasn't clamped between her jaws.  
Lucky for him she kept it going long enough to get a few snaps. Oh, yes. This was definitely getting passed around the next baby group meeting like a joint at a house party. Take _that_ , Ruby's mum. Calling his daughter 'slow'. (Bitch.)  
It was the kind of photo that made him wish he had one of those InstaTwit accounts or whatever they were called so he could show off the things he appreciated, like a stunning sunset or a good vinyl. Like his daughter (mostly likely when she was single-handedly recreating Noah's ark).

If he didn't know better – and that was pretty likely – he could have sworn she was _enjoying_ the camera's attention. God, she was a right little poser sometimes. Just her mother.

Before he took a wrong turn down memory lane, his fatherly duty called him when he realised how just cold that little foot was. “Right! You're getting clothes on right now.” Rising from the sofa, he held her so her chubby cheek rested against his shoulder. Before he left to get them both dressed he made sure he'd sent a couple of those photos to at least a dozen of his inner circle. Sharing was caring, right?

A sharp pain in his scalp made him yelp slightly. His totally manly squeak was met with a happy chuckle. The sensation was so familiar that Alex didn't even need to look up from his phone to know Lexi was currently trying to hang off his long hair, clutching it in fists framing his face.  
“ _Ow_ , love. Careful.” Pull. “I know, I know, I need a haircut.” Another tug. “You like Daddy's long hair, don't you? Well, ye like _pulling_ it.” And eating it too, since the tip of the nearest handful was currently hanging out her mouth. “Hey, that's another thing you and your mum have in common. Not- not _pulling_ my hair. _Although_... Uh, well, anyway, that's not a story for you. Ever. Um...” Faintly pink, he coughed. “No, I meant that she liked my hair long too. Refused to let me cut it for ages. It were like proper... proper _princess_ hair or summat, by t'end of it.” Alex played with the ends of her brunette locks, fluffy waves which curled out near those precious ears. “You'd have been jealous, love.”

As happy as it made her, he'd probably have to get a trim at _some_ point in the not-too-distant future if he didn't want people to start mistaking _him_ for Lexi's mum. Her happy suckling on his hair made him panic briefly as he considered the state it was in, not having seen a comb or even a jet of water in a few days at the very least. Showering was a luxury now with a baby to look after. Perhaps he could ring Miles at some point for some beloved babysitter bonding time while he dove into a nice hot shower. God, it felt like forever since he'd been able to have a long, hot shower then change into some fresh pyjamas (even if he mostly slept in boxers), just to settle in to a full night's uninterrupted sleep. Until noon. At least.  
Hell, he'd settle for a fresh _t-shirt_ at the moment.

… But _anything_ right now would be a start. “Right, missy. _Clothes_ ,” he told her, looking into those round, doe eyes. “And _socks_.”  
He found it very hard to believe that that last yank wasn't some kind of retribution. That girl really _did_ harbour a hatred for socks. “Bah.”

“'Bah' nowt. You're getting chilly. So you're getting socks, like it or _not_.”

Alex chose to disregard the raspberry that splattered him in spit as anything other than sheer coincidence. Taking the bodysuit with them, he began to wander through to the delightful purple nursery (which had formerly been the home of his pool table and multiple guitars) with the girl grizzling in his arms.

There was no denying that Alex's life had completely flipped upside down after that phone call. Definitely wasn't what _he_ expected to be doing a year ago. He imagined writing, rehearsing and... _strippers_ , not... dirty nappies and Disney. Being a _dad_. No-one had really expected it of him – him least of all. But he wouldn't change the past year for the world.

“Where's that tiger suit, eh?”

Why would he? Now he gets to spend the rest of his life with the most perfect girl in the world: Alexa Lolita Penny Turner.  
She was all his.

And without a doubt, he was _always_ going to be hers.


End file.
